It took the group an entire season to make their way back to Egypt. The scenes of turmoil and devastation witnessed in its once impressive cities upset J’tan to his core. His country lay in ruins.
Every day of their journey, J’tan expected to see Akhenaten racing over the hills toward them, leading an army to retrieve his great prize, but no such day came.
Eventually, they reached the Great City and the fertile lands beyond. Jethro insisted that this location, well known for its splendour, was the ideal hiding place. The Ark could only be trusted to Reuel and no one else.
J’tan did not argue with the decision. All of his thoughts now revolved around Samali and her current condition.
It was just before their final confrontation with Akhenaten that Samali informed him she had missed her cycle. From that moment, the dynamic of their small group changed. By day, Jethro would dote over her, ensuring she was never allowed to work or wait on anyone. By night, J’tan cuddled her abdomen, a light in his eyes that was both radiant and loving never dissipating, as he stroked the location of his firstborn child.
Eventually they reached the immense labyrinth. It was the most impressive building in all the lands of the Pharaoh. Its enormous maze of chambers above ground, paled in comparison to its tunnels, which wove under their feet. J’tan did not know of anyone, other than the priests who tended it, telling stories of its hallowed halls. Now here he was, walking up to its monumental façade with his father, there to hide the Ark of his Gods within its subterranean vaults.
They made their way up to the front of the labyrinth, a row of sphinxes lining the sides of the walkway. In the distance, the pyramid of the vizier stood resplendent in the late-evening sun, a mass of perfection towering high above the hillside. In the entrance of the labyrinth, an old man leant against a gnarled, wooden staff. His hair and beard trailed down to his shins and its brilliant, white colour gave it a feeling of serenity, imbuing the man with an aura of ageless knowledge. Around his neck, he wore a ceremonial necklace, which shone radiantly in the twilight.
“Reuel, it is a pleasure to see you again.” said Jethro, walking up to the man and shaking him by the hand. “I have not seen you in many years”
“Nor I you, my son.”
J’tan looked at the two men and realised their relationship was akin to his own with Jethro; the familial name used more out of respect than any paternal link.
“And you, my dear Keeper. I feared you did not make it out of the tent.” said Reuel.
“I am still unsure of what happened. I drank the poison as did you, but I awoke to find you gone, my noble Seer.” said Samali.
“My ability to stave off death still had enough in reserve to fight off the effects of the poison. Luckily, I am versed in herbs and there was a batch of antidote in my things. I hoped I managed to give it to you in time. Apparently I did.”
“Thank you master.” said Samali, bowing.
“We have brought the Ark for safekeeping.” said Jethro.
“I was wondering when I would see it again.” said Reuel, placing a hand on the chest and calling for eight of his priests to remove it. “So we have reached the end of the journey. Come, we will make our way to its vault.”
Reuel led them through the maze of temples, the priests carrying the Ark behind them. Each room was incredible, and the artistry of its construction was grander than anything the Great City could offer. As they walked, J’tan strode by the side of the surprisingly mobile old man, his curiosity urging him to speak.
“You may ask me anything you wish, J’tan. I can tell you have many questions.” said Reuel, his voice effortlessly calming.
“When I saw you in the tent, you were dead. How is it that you still live?” asked J’tan, blurting out the first thing that came to mind and blushing with his uncivilized manner.
If any insult was to be found in his question, Reuel did not show it. He appraised J’tan, pursing his lips before he responded. “I was blessed as a young man with the power of the Ark. It has protected me ever since.”
“You mean you have tasted of the high fire stone?” asked J’tan, in a more measured tone.
“Your knowledge of the artefacts is welcoming, young one. That is correct.” said Reuel, with a light bow of respect. “I was chosen to ensure the knowledge of our civilisation was not lost. I was tasked with watching over the Ark where it lay, and was granted some of its power in order to accomplish it.”
“To be given the supreme gift of the Gods is a great honour, Seer.”
“There is no gift.” said Reuel, his voice tinged with regret. “Only sacrifice. In order for the tree to grant life, it must first take it. The uraeus was originally made to hold the knowledge of our elders, the knowledge of my entire race. The people who gave their knowledge also gave up their lives to leave it within. However, you can use the uraeus for a darker purpose, as you have seen. If you so wish, you can ignore the storage of knowledge and use the uraeus to gather the souls of others, to avoid the inevitable, the distant pull of the eternal serpent itself. Although I can say with my hand on my heart, this gift has been more of a curse. To outlive everyone you have every loved is a torture I would not wish upon my worst enemy.”
“Then you are much older than you look?”
“Is it still considered disrespectful to ask a gentleman his age?” asked Reuel, with a laugh. “It is all right, I am much older than I appear, but my recent turmoil has reduced what remaining time I have left.”
“Then the gift of the Ark is not permanent?”
“No, it is not. For every soul consumed through the tree, you gain perhaps five summers. In order to live the life eternal, you are required to consume constantly. What we feared might happen has come to pass. The Ark must be stored away until you have outgrown your greed and can use the tree in the way it was intended.”
“Then what is to be done with the Ark?”
“I will keep it, in the bowels of this place. It will be safe here.”
“And what of you?”
“I will remain and watch over it. It is my duty.”
“But surely you have done enough already.”
“I have done more than you can imagine.” said Reuel, as he looked skyward. The sun seemed to drift over his features as he paused, bathing in its tranquillity one last time, the skin of his face glowing with colour at the warming contact and a stray tear falling down his cheek. “I have stood on the edge of the Earth and watched as the deluge came and washed my world away. I have travelled the seas and met with the red-skinned people from the lands of Antis and the proud fishermen of Atl. I have travelled to our world’s lip and seen the birth of the nation of the great dragons from where your companion has travelled. I have traversed the snows of the north and met with the copper haired men who inhabit its hillside halls. I have seen this world from every angle and now my heart is tired and my bones are weak.” He lowered his head, and just for a second he appeared younger, a man no older than J’tan. “Do you not think I have earned my rest?”
J’tan did not know what to say. To have witnessed your society’s end. To have seen so much, but without so many, was it truly right for him to judge. “If it is what you desire.”
“Do not fret. My people’s accomplishments still stand where they were erected, all those eons ago. A people who you have met, the Akkadian’s, have even included me in their history. I have a different title, the name Enoch in those stories, but I know they are speaking of me. My journey may be at its end, but the knowledge of my people will survive. Maybe one day, man will be wise enough to remember us in a way that will show us with the respect I see from you.” Reuel turned, a sense of unbridled piety flowing from him and lifting the spirits of everyone within earshot. “Your journey however, is just about to begin.”
J’tan glanced at Samali, whose blush brought blood rushing to his own face. He nodded, as Reuel set off down the ramp and into the bowels of the complex.
They continued on, eventually reaching a hall lined with the
Gods of Egypt, proudly displayed in twelve magnificent statues. Following Reuel to the end of the impressive chamber, J’tan entered a room dominated by an incredible monument to the God Sobek. To its side, a strangely decorated throne had lines of text running down its arms.
Before J’tan could question where they were, the priests arranged the stone plinth on the ground before the statue and placed the Ark atop it.
As the group walked back towards the ramp, Reuel handed Jethro the artefacts, waiting as they rose outside. “It is time, my son.”
Jethro bowed, stifling his emotions as he pointed the staff toward the opening. Slowly, as if it was turning to mud before them, the rocks slipped their way across the hole. Eventually, the gap sealed with a casing of stone, trapping the Ark and Reuel inside the labyrinth forever.
“It is finished. No one will ever find this opening again.” said Jethro, with a smile of gratification at his task’s end.
“Then we are done.” said J’tan. “What about the artefacts you carry?”
“They are nothing but trinkets without the Ark. I will take them back to the lands of my father, to the city of my birth. They will be buried with me there, when my time comes.”
“As you wish, father.”
“And what of you? Where will you settle?”
“We have spoken about visiting the lands of Samali’s home. She has not been there since she was a young girl. It is fitting that we should return with our child, so it may learn of its heritage and customs.”
“As you wish.” said Jethro, with pride. “There will always be a spare room for you by the ziggurat if you ever feel the need to come and visit your father.”
“Your grandchild shall come and visit you soon.” said Samali, with a gracious smile.
Jethro shook J’tan firmly by the hand and hugged him close, the release of emotion on display evident. “Come, my brothers.” he said, motioning to the priests as he turned and bowed to Samali before leaving. “We shall leave these good people to enjoy their lives. Their world owes them a debt they have yet to claim.”
“It is a long ride to my lands. Our child will probably be born on the way.” said Samali, as the caravan of Jethro departed.
“Then it will see its world and its people as it grows, and learn to respect the land on which it walks, as is its mother’s way.”
They held each other tightly as they made their way out of the temple, finding hope and solace in the uncertainty of their shared future.
Chapter 54